


I've Got Plenty to Be Thankful For

by Ithinkwehaveanemergency



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Brightmel, Feelings, Flirting, Fluff without Plot, Holidays, Introspection, M/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 11:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21493378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithinkwehaveanemergency/pseuds/Ithinkwehaveanemergency
Summary: Detective JT Tarmel isn't sure how 11:15 PM on Thanksgiving day finds him in Malcolm Bright's childhood bedroom, slightly tipsy, in the middle of an existential crisis.AKAA short fic about JT attending Thanksgiving at the Whitly's family home.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/JT Tarmel, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 133





	I've Got Plenty to Be Thankful For

It wasn't like JT didn't have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving. His mom's is less than a two hour drive with no traffic. Honestly, he decided to skip the trip because it's just not that big a deal in his family.

Christmas is when everyone from the extended family comes home from whichever state or _ country, even, _ they've wandered off to live their life. Their entire old neighborhood becomes a giant party for the holidays. People bring back presents to distribute to all the current neighborhood kids. There's constant passing of drinks and deserts to the person next to you. There's no shortage of hot, delicious, homestyle cooking and grilling during the Christmas season.

JT can't _ wait _ for the end of December.

But Thanksgiving isn't a big deal, and his mom knows he can take more time off for Christmas if he agrees to work the earlier holiday.

So when JT puts his plans together for the evening of the last Thursday of November, they consist of a slow cooker stew and his television streaming service. And if the Captain didn't have a big mouth, that's probably exactly how it would have happened.

Instead, he finds himself in a house he was honestly hoping he's never find himself in again.

JT feels a bony knee knock into his and he looks up from his wandering thoughts.

"Scotch, Detective Tarmel?" Jessica repeats with a kind, _but_ _still creepy,_ smile spreading across her face. She seems to sense his discomfort, and JT thinks she's attempting to assuage his unease, but he also can't help but find her _pretty_ _creepy_ sometimes.

"I'm alright, thanks." He smiles politely.

"JT is more of a beer and wine guy." Malcolm tells his mother, the bony knee knocking into JT's once again.

Unsure of why Malcolm knows that, until he remembers that the man profiles everyone around him, JT simply narrows his eyes at his coworker in return. Malcolm's smile is warm when it turns on him, highlighted well by the barely-there elevator Christmas music that fills the room.

The past month, Malcolm has been more and more playful with his comments, almost like he's picked on how much he's wormed his way under JT's skin and into his daily thoughts. They've grown closer, for sure, but JT thought they had a mutual understanding that they should probably leave it there. A harmless attraction, nothing more. Nothing that could interfere with their working relationship.

Though when Gil outed him for planning to spend Thanksgiving alone, Malcolm invited him to Thanksgiving dinner with his mother.

And after accepting, and finding himself bickering over music with the profiler on Jessica Whitly's couch, JT feels as though they've crossed a line.

"What kind of wine do you like? I'll have some brought up for dinner." Jessica's smile brightens as JT meets her eyes again, and not for the first time, he sees the resemblance between her and her son. This time, however, he finds it endearing. He sees small hints of kindness and warmth from Malcolm so often that he recognizes the look that he's apparently picked up from his mother.

"Anything red is nice with dinner, really." JT grumbles out despite his previous determination to avoid drinking and becoming more loose-lipped than absolutely necessary. "I'm not too picky."

"Pinot noirs are his usual, though there _ is _ a Bordeaux he always orders at the place we go for dinner with the department donors." Malcolm provides another unnecessary elaboration, and Jessica finally narrows her eyes at her son.

"Malcolm." She practically sneers, but it's still fond. "Your manners are lacking today. However, it was helpful, I suppose."

She stands just as Gil comes back from the restroom.

"There is a lovely red blend in the wine room that I picked up last time I was in Bordeaux. I'll throw together a nice little cheese plate with it as well, assuming I don't get thrown out of my own kitchen."

"I'll help, mother." Malcolm stands to follow, rolling up the sleeves on his dress shirt.

"Oh, you just want to pick which ones to serve." Jessica rolls her eyes, smiling in a much less intimidating way now that she's relaxed a bit from her hostessing role to nag her son.

"Of course that's it, mother. I'm _ not at all _ just trying to be helpful."

The two walk into the next room with their perfect posture and neatly pressed clothing, and JT is reminded how unlike his own family gatherings this holiday dinner will be. JT usually can't be bothered to put a button up shirt on for anything other than Christmas Mass when he's home for the holidays.

"Breathe, JT." Gil chuckles from behind him, helping himself to a second scotch at the bar. "They're just trying to be nice. Jessica doesn't mean to smother you."

"The smothering I can handle." JT grumbles, putting an arm over the back of the sofa and craning his neck to face his boss. "I just don't know if I can handle the quiet. Why's it always gotta be so quiet here?"

"We can turn on more lively music, if you prefer. I'm very into that one young man that Ainsley is so keen on…" Jessica walks back in with surprisingly silent steps, despite her high heels. She carries two glasses of wine, one for herself and one she extends to the younger of her guests. "Oh now, what is his name again…"

JT goes a bit red at being overheard complaining, and sits up in his seat, eagerly accepting the glass.

"I didn't mean-"

"No, you're right JT." Gil interrupts, trying to save him from the embarrassment of apologizing for something so silly. "I'd like to lighten up the night a little. Maybe something _not_ _jazz_, as its all we'll hear during December."

"Gil, really? You _ love _ Jazz!" Jessica titters, her laugh a light tinkle that JT knows is practiced and polite. It's much like Malcolm's, just much more feminine, and it's yet another reminder of the stark contrast between his own loud joyful gatherings at home, with kids everywhere yelling and playing. There's always something loudly recounting a story, and laughter coating the streets as the elders get drunk in someones garage and play cards.

"I do, but I could use something less Christmas themed." Gil grimaces. "Just reminds me that we're gonna get busy at work. Holidays bring out the emotional in some people, and without fail, the department always gets busy."

Malcolm walks in then, the board of cheese and olives in one hand, a stack of small plates in the other.

"Malcolm, dear." Jessica turns to her son with an imploring smile. "Could you put something else on? Maybe that one man Ainsley likes so much."

"Mom, I don't think Post Malone goes well with Bordeaux, gourmet cheese, and Scotch." Malcolm arches an amused eyebrow, and JT barely manages not to snort into his wine glass.

"Oh, well then, you pick." Jessica scoffs and waves a hand in the air before meeting Gil's eyes across the room. She has a twinkle in her eye as he sips her wine and maintains eye contact with the man, and JT frowns at the interesting and slightly disturbing silent communication.

Malcolm turns to JT and winks before setting the fare down and walking over to the tablet that seems to control the music and lights. The music changes almost instantly and JT relaxes as the volume increases a little.

Malcolm walks back over with a smug smile on his face.

"You _ look _ like you listen to Hozier." JT snorts, noting that Malcolm has chosen to sit close enough this time that their thighs are pressed together from hip to knee.

"Yeah, well, you _ do _ listen to Hozier." Malcolm shrugs. He leans forward in his seat again, grabbing a piece of cheese. "Often, in fact."

"Yeah, alright." JT frowns. "But you probably just listen to him because he's a pretty boy. Like you."

"Oh, you think I'm pretty? I knew-"

"That's not-"

"Boys, can we not argue over the lovely Irish man's music." Jessica interrupts sweetly. Gil takes the chair next to her own, laughing silently. He throws a knowing look JT's way, making him flush and look away as Jessica goes on. "I'm a fan of him as well. His music is so full of culture, yet still progressive and modern."

JT smiles in placating apology back at Jessica before turning to glare at Malcolm. The man bites his lip and raises his eyebrows as he smiles back suggestively. JT shakes his head but he knows that there's no hiding his fondness for his coworker when the bright eyed man becomes a cheeky pain in the ass.

JT shifts slightly, pressing his knee solidly into the warmth of Malcolm's leg, and it pulls a softer smile from the man.

They both go quiet, eating cheese and sipping their beverages as they half-heartedly listen to Gil and Jessica talk about music and work and everything in between.

*****

Dinner is incredible.

Its not the usual home cooked turkey and ham with sloppy green bean casserole, but there are fried onions and cranberry sauce, so it does the job.

Malcolm gives JT a quick tour after dessert, if for no other reason than to escape the excessive flirting still going on in the dining room.

"Thanks for coming." Malcolm shuts the door behind them. "I know this place isn't exactly your favorite. I know my… My family isn't your favorite. But I'm really glad you were here. Especially since Ains didn't show. God, can you imagine just me and the two of them?"

Malcolm starts perusing his old room. JT shifts awkwardly, not denying the initial accusation, though he knows it's not really true. Not anymore. The women of the Whitly family have definitely earned a bit of his respect, and maybe even _ affection _, in the past couple months.

"So uh… is it weird that your mom and Gil…" JT doesn't say anything else, just moves his hand in a vague gesture.

Malcolm snorts and runs a finger along his bookshelf.

"Wanna get it on?" Malcolm says quickly, and JT can hear the distaste in his voice. "God, yes, it's really weird. I don't _ want _ to be grossed out, because they're single adults and there's nothing wrong with… whatever… But yeah, its fucking _ weird _."

He turns toward JT when he's done walking the edges of his room.

"I guess I just…" Malcolm shrugs. "I felt like I had two sets of parents. Martin and my mother_ , for better or for worse, _ and then the Arroyos. Seeing my mother interested in Gil seems like… mixing the two. It's just too strange in the childlike part of my mind."

JT stares at Malcolm's old, unused, full sized bed, covered by a plush, expensive looking sheet set and duvet. He reaches out to touch the fabric, wanting to know if it feels much different than his own, fairly nice sheets at home.

It doesn't.

"My parents are divorced." JT offers, not looking up at the other man in the room. He's not sure why he feels the need to share, but the words are already out, so he keeps going. "I sort of felt like I had two sets of parents, too. Sometimes it felt like one was good and one was bad, back when I was a kid. My mother, she didn't really settle down again, and she focused most of her attention on me, since I was with her 80% of my time. so I would unfairly look at her and whatever man she dated as the bad cops, y'know?"

JT feels, more than hears, when Malcolm walks toward him. He doesn't move, doesn't look up. He just continues telling Malcolm this story of his past he hasn't readily offered anyone else before.

"And my pops. He was… he was a fun dude." JT smiles weakly, a bittersweet, nostalgic feeling crawling up in his throat. "And his new wife was so sweet and gave me gifts all the time. But my mom. She's the one who was there, y'know. For all the bad shit? Still is, I suppose."

Malcolm is right in front of JT when he finally looks up. .

"Moms seem to do that. Manage to handle their lives, crazy as they may be, and still have your back through it all." JT shrugs, and Malcolm hums, nodding in agreement. "I might not get your mom, at all… but I feel like she's a badass. Guess you gotta be in her position."

Malcolm clears his throat and swallows loudly. He steps closer, his red rimmed eyes searching JT's. He puts a warm, delicate hand on JT's chest, right over his heart, thumb rubbing against the dark fabric absently. They touch a lot, nowadays, but the intimacy of this one is not lost on either of them.

"I, uh… I hope I get to meet your mom one day." Malcolm muses, his voice cracking a bit. "She must be pretty badass too, to raise a guy like you."

"Not sure she'd like you, Bright." JT whispers, eyes unintentionally flicking down to Malcolm's lips. Lips ge can't deny thinking about kissing at least once a day. The shorter man's tongue peeks out to wet said lips, and JT swallows as he looks into Malcolm's crystal blue eyes.

"I'd grow on her." Malcolm smirks.

"Yeah." JT nods slightly, and the hand on his chest slides up to his shoulder as Malcolm leans toward him. "Yeah, I'm sure you would."

JT barely registers the lips on his own, still processing the way Malcolm comes up on his tip toes and presses their torsos together. When he finally realizes he's being kissed, JT shuts his eyes, brings his hands up to grip narrow hips, and tilts his head down into it until he feels Malcolm drop his heels to the floor.

Detective JT Tarmel isn't sure how 10:15 PM on Thanksgiving day finds him in Malcolm Bright's childhood bedroom, slightly tipsy, in the middle of an existential crisis.

JT's brain starts moving too fast, wondering how he got here, what really took the two of them from work earlier in the day, to Thanksgiving dinner at the Whitly home, to standing pressed togetger with their lips sliding against eachother's like they've discovered how to finally breathe.

When Malcolm's arms loop over his shoulders, JT decides to table his existential crisis for another moment. He moves his own arms around the smaller man's waist, pulling him impossibly closer and deepening the kiss.

The last thought he has before losing himself in the moment is an absent wonder if Jessica or Gil, Malcolm's _family_, would terribly mind JT bringing Malcolm home with him for the holidays.


End file.
